'tis the same ol' story!

The Showdown.

"Sahi na? Ava kulam gothram enna? No daughter of mine is going to run away with a meat-eating Punjabi named Sunil Sahi!", his voice rumbled, dangerously, it seemed to Krithika.

Why does he look at my mother when he says this? For once, can you make eye-contact with me, appa? Krithika nervously chewed on her finger nails, silently waiting for the chaos to descend on her.

Her mother did not respond. She stood in front of the vigrahams and perumal padams neatly arranged in the kitchen almirah, hands clasped near her chest, eyes closed tightly, lips mumbling incoherent prayers. Every now and then, she would use the tip of her kattam-potta, brown nine yards saree to wipe her tears and she would quickly steal a timid glance at the drama unfolding in the living room.

*****
"And I suppose Mrs.Smith is a magna cum laude Harvard graduate…all I need to complete my perfect day!" He nervously adjusted his tie and rang the bell. The imposing three storied-house and the perfectly manicured lawns did little to ease his growing apprehension.

"You must be Andrew…how nice to see you", high-pitched voice, strings of pearls so tight around her neck, he wondered if she felt suffocated.

Awkward introductions, Melanie trying her best to make him feel "at home"…

"My husband graduated from Harvard…", the high pitch was beginning to grate on his nerves. "Ah, so it is Mr.Smith that is from Harvard…", Andrew thought morosely as he loosened his tie a bit more.

More innuendos, forced laughs and small talk.

"I am not going to let these uppity know-it-alls make me feel bad, I am proud of my mom and I will be". His father having deserted the family when Andrew was still a baby, his mother had worked hard to bring her only son up. Extra hours at the book store, a few more baby-sitting jobs and…Andrew was now a college graduate, not good enough for the Smith's though.

"The wedding will be Catholic, of course…", Melanie’s mother drawled, with a meaningful look at Andrew, as if being "non-Catholic" was entirely his fault…

*****The Preparations.

"Haan ji, aapko idhar aane ka, baat karna he, ladke leke aayiyega..."

Over broken bits of Hindi and English, the date was set for the parents to meet to decide on "auspicious" engagement and marriage dates.

"We do not have marriages in the month of December, highly inauspicious, Marghazhi, the month to pray and we take that seriously, you see..." It was not a question, a command and he expected immediate acquiescence.

"Of course, you do not have to teach a Sikh about being devout, Sir."

Krithika watched the verbal volley with a sense of despair. A few hours passed and a date was set for the engagement, the one date that both parties had reluctantly agreed to after throwing aside several others that had been carefully selected by the priests of both families.

"The marriage will be our style?", a voice boldly ventured and Sunil looked ready to kill his uncle...
*****
"Yes tulips, tulips ofcourse, they will do nicely...", Melanie's mother was the decision maker for their wedding. The table setting, the flower arrangements, the hall, the invitations and even the dress had to be go through her mother's stringent approval process. The wedding planner tagged along uncertainly, jotting down instructions from time to time.

"It's going to be an amazing wedding! We even have a theme for the reception party...and oh, you should see the bridesmaids' dresses, they are to die for! You will have so much fun, Eva!", Melanie impulsively hugged Eva. Eva hugged her back smiling, sadly. For once she wished she could do more for her son...

*****The Event.

"Will you let go of my hair...now?!", Krithika forcibly pulled herself away, leaving a few strands of her hair in the bewildered beautician's hands.

Krithika undid the hideous coiffure and started untangling her hair. She barely finished when her mother came rushing in, "Krithu, we are very late, Muhurta neram tanda pordu, come soon!"

Krithika gingerly smoothened out her now-wrinkled koora podavai and walked to the mandapam. A cacophony of sounds and images blurred her senses. The tunes of the reedy nadaswaram seemed to mingle discordantly with the mirudangam beats, punctuated by loud Sanskrit slokas uttered, without a pause, by vadhyars sitting around the fire. Excited chatter, screaming kids running around the pillars of the mandapam, sweaty mothers rushing in all directions with garlands, vilakkus, silver plates and kumkumam, pot-bellied uncles standing in small circles, laughing loudly at comments that hardly deserved a smirk...a 3D movie in fast-forward, with the smoke from the fire adding the final touches! She looked at Sunil, clad in a white veshti, holding the sacred poonal around his chest, managing admirably with the mandrams and suddenly, the haze cleared and everything made sense to her. She smiled.

*****
"Where is the veil?!", Melanie was almost in tears. The perfect white dress, the perfect diamond necklace, perfect shoes and the veil, the finishing touch to her fantasy, missing. A few minutes of frantic searching and one of the bridesmaids came running with the precious piece of cloth.

"Do I look alright? Has the music already started?! Where is daddy?!", Mr.Smith touched his daughter's shoulder from behind her. She turned and he kissed her on the forehead, "You look beautiful and today is going to be perfect." The conviction and affection in his voice calmed Melanie considerably and she smiled.

She walked slowly down the aisle of the church, with her father. A picture-perfect wedding, flowers, just the right amount, tastefully adorned the walls, candles cast a romantic glow all around, Andrew's eyes unwaveringly followed his bride, his right hand touching his heart. She walked gracefully, stepping on the rose petals scattered on the floor by two little girls in pink dresses and matching pink baskets in their hands...

"With this ring I thee wed.", the words echoed down the hall. Andrew caught his mother's eyes for a moment and they exchanged a smile that spoke volumes.

*****